


A Conversation - Long Overdue

by skaoi



Series: Godson [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 07:51:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8278385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skaoi/pseuds/skaoi
Summary: Picking up his glass and a bottle, he ambles to the piano.  Maze’s eyebrows raise slightly as he sits at the bench then proceeds to stare at the keys for a moment.  She huffs boredom then takes to her feet, “I’ll be back later, Lucifer.”“Fine, Maze.” A vague smile, but he still doesn’t look up from Satan’s distraction, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, yeah?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I thought about on today's commute...
> 
> This is a one-shot. Hope you like it.

Lucifer sarcastically dubbed the first day of the work-week as “Morningstar Monday.”  

Lux is closed so the staff can recover from the debauchery of the weekend.  The dancers stay home for well-deserved sleep and the bar-backs don’t arrive until the evening to re-stock.  Stickler for cleanliness that he is, Lucifer’s club is wiped down and spotless before anyone left the night before.

He finally listened when Maze asked about turning off the air conditioning and had to grudgingly agree she was correct - their little den of iniquity felt just a bit more like home.  Warm and stuffy.  “I dare say it’s stifling in here, Maze.  Lovely.”

She smirks as she flops down on a sofa and puts her feet up, her skin fairly glowing from the sheen of sweat on her coffee-colored skin, “You’re welcome.”

Lucifer strolls behind the bar, his white shirt standing out in the dim of the club.  Sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons open, one hand in a pocket while he leans against the bar to sip his scotch.  A long finger taps the glass as he seems lost in thought.  It would seem the Lord of Hell hasn’t a care in the world at the moment if not for the impossibly straight line across his shoulders.

Anticipation.  But of what?

Picking up his glass and a bottle, he ambles to the piano.  Maze’s eyebrows raise slightly as he sits at the bench then proceeds to stare at the keys for a moment.  She huffs boredom then takes to her feet, “I’ll be back later, Lucifer.”

“Fine, Maze.” A vague smile, but he still doesn’t look up from Satan’s distraction, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, yeah?”

She snickers before downing her drink then stalking up the stairs and out the door.

Lucifer tinkers with his musical mistress for some time.  Starting one tune, finishing another.  Humming at times, singing under his breath at others.  

Floating along on a stream of inattention.

A sound at the top of the stairs catches his ear and he turns to see an elderly gentleman in neat but worn clothing.  The Prince of Darkness stands, mildly noting the empty bottle of scotch in his piano, then meandering to the bar for another as the man steps onto the club floor and approaches.

“We’re closed,” Lucifer says quietly, noting the man’s threadbare sweater vest and the ragged cuffs of his pants.  “Open again tomorrow night.  Have a care for the dress code when you return, hmmm?”

A warm chuckle comes from the tall gentleman’s chest and pours into the quiet space of the club.  He looks around with a gentle smile on his face then turns it to Lucifer.  He cocks his head, dark eyes sparkling, “Pour me some of that will you?”

Lucifer looks up and narrows his eyes, “Nervy one, eh?  What is it you want, then?  I’m not the charitable type, so I hope you’re not here for a hand-out,” he grumbles softly.

The man’s grin broadens, “We both know better than that, don’t we?”

Lucifer cocks his head and looks more closely.  After a long moment, his eyes widen and he steps back.  “Well,” he huffs quietly as he pours a drink and places it in front of his visitor.  “Slumming, are we?”

The man shrugs as he raises his glass without a word but his eyes travel over Lucifer in appraisal.  He takes a sip then lowers the glass and smiles softly, “You look good.”

Lucifer leans insolently against the bar and taps his finger against his own glass, “I do, don’t I?  No thanks to you.”

Surprisingly (or not), the man’s smile broadens, “I suppose not.”  He looks around the empty club then begins to stroll around the space.  “I’m surprised you chose to do this.  It’s cozy, don’t get me wrong, but certainly you recognize you could have gone in another direction with it.  A library, perhaps?  You still love to read, yes?”

Lucifer clenches his jaw and his guest hears the teeth grinding together, “Why are you here, Father?”  He tosses back his drink and stands straight up, “Come to send me back yourself?”

God shakes his head, the smile never leaving his face, “No, son.  I’m not.”  He wanders past the piano, his hand stroking it lovingly as he goes by.  He sips his scotch and raises it toward the fallen angel as if in salute, “I just wanted to....see you.”

Lucifer huffs in irritation but it’s obvious from the blackening of his eyes that this is painful, “Bollocks.  You can bloody SEE me any time you like,” he waves toward the ceiling, “from your front row seat.”   He casts a harsh glance at his father before turning to walk from behind the bar, “Just...say what you came to say and get it over with alright?”

A glint of sadness shades God’s eyes as he looks at his son.  Still so proud.  “How’s free will working out?” he asks quietly.  “You wanted it so much...”

The Lord of Hell’s mouth gapes just slightly before he closes it into a harsh line, “You don’t speak to me for almost the entire span of human existence, then you come to my home to ask me  _ this _ ?”  Brows furrow and he growls, “Is there some reason you pretend to care now?”

His father sighs heavily and looks down at his hands for a moment.  “I  _ do  _ care, Lucifer.  I always have,” he smiles sadly as he looks at his son.  “I always will.”

Lucifer huffs loudly as he looks his father up and down, “Expect me to believe that, do you?  Rather funny way of showing it, tossing me out on my ass and giving me the cold shoulder with nary a word.”

God paces slowly, “You know sometimes when Mazikeen is about to make a poor decision, but you let her do it anyway?  And what she learns from it is better than anything she could have taken away from you trying to tell her what to do?”

Lucifer frowns and stuffs his hands in his pockets, “I hardly see what my relationship with my demon has to do with any of this.”

God shakes his head again as he walks slowly toward his son, “You are  _ still _ my most obstinate creation.  You know that, right?”  He chuckles without humor, “It’s part of free will, son.  You wanted to be judged for your decisions, but how much responsibility for those decisions can you honestly take if I’m in you're ear all the time?”  He sighs, “Growth requires space.  Independence.”  He flashes a rueful smile and offers a small shrug, “And, you were right...consequences.”

Lucifer spits.  “There’s a middle ground, Father.  If we’re using Maze as the comparison, at least I am present in her life.  I’m not bloody telling her what to do most of the time, but she’s not sodding ALONE, either.”  He chokes on the last bit and turns back to the bar where he reaches for the comfort of his glass.

The Lord of All Creation is silent a long moment then finally nods, “You’re right.  I....neglected you.  Abandoned you.  And I’m...sorry.”

“Is that it?” Lucifer hisses.  “You’re  _ sorry _ ?  That’s supposed to make up for millions of years?  For being blamed by humanity for its sins?”

God drains the last of his scotch, “No.  There’s nothing I do can make up for lost time, Lucifer.   But I can try to do a better job moving forward. And humanity casting you as its scapegoat has nothing to do with me...”

“You could have STOPPED it, Father,” Lucifer coughs a sharp laugh.  “I don’t know, put in a good word, perhaps?” he asks, his voice strained.

God carefully sets the glass down on the bar, “You could have stopped it yourself, son,” he says quietly.  He turns toward the stairs then turns back to take a last look at Lucifer with a soft smile, “Still can.”

“What?”  Lucifer looks down at his hands for a moment then looks up again, “I...” he stops.  The room is empty.


End file.
